


Sharp Dressed Men

by freckledandspectacled



Series: Prompt Fills [9]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Image, Choking, Clothing Kink, Come Shot, Consensual Kink, Domwald, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Insecurity, Kink Negotiation, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Psychopaths In Love, Public Display of Affection, Sass, Smut, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, Suit Sex, light choking tho, there are three different tags for this what the hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9632279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: Ed gets a fitting at the tailor's and Oswald picks up his new suit. What happens next won't shock you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is two different prompt fills from tumblr that I smushed together cause I'm sneaky like that. It's been written for two weeks but I'm a lazy person, better late than never I guess. It's also a birthday gift for @flux--and--flow on tumblr because I worked as many of her kinks as humanly possible into here even if I definitely missed some.

Oswald is familiar with this process, watching closely as the tailor takes Ed’s measurements. The tailor had already been made aware of the color and style they were looking for but needed Ed’s suit size. Oswald hadn’t had him properly fitted before this and he wanted him looking positively dashing for the upcoming gala.

Ed puts his arms out and the tailor brings the tape measure around his chest, grabbing a plain jacket for reference off the wall. He helps Ed into it, and Ed buttons it. The tailor checks the length against Ed’s thumbs, then turns him around to ensure that the back reaches the top of his thighs. He runs his fingers under Ed’s backside, where his legs start, his fingers brushing the bottom of the jacket. Oswald reminds himself to simmer down, that this is all very routine and the tailor has done nothing untoward. _Take a breath_.

The tailor nods, then pulls at the front of the jacket and checks the shoulders. He gestures at Ed to remove the jacket. He loops the tape measure around Ed’s waist and then whisks the jacket away.

“Do they ever speak?” Ed asks.

“Only if you’ve desecrated one of their pieces somehow,” Oswald replies.

“Oh?”

“I’ll show you later,” Oswald promises, winking. Ed’s in a dark pair of trousers, dress shirt and shoes. He had to divest himself of his vest for the fitting but otherwise remains put together. His slacks are loose on him, and Oswald detests them. He hopes they can finish the pants for Ed today and they can leave this pair in the trash where they belong. Ed has a delightful backside that deserves properly fitting trousers, even if it’s to his own frustration.

The tailor returns with a pair of trousers, giving them to Ed and indicating that he change behind a curtain. Ed disappears into the adjoining room.

“Those are the most form-fitting you have for his size?”

“Yes, Mr. Cobblepot.”

“You understand he has… generous proportions?”

“Quite so. This pair should emphasize his… particular assets as well as the length of his legs.”

Oswald sighs, “A shame the jacket has to be so long. Fashion, am I right?” The tailor doesn’t respond.

Ed reemerges. It isn’t until he turns to face the mirror that Oswald can properly salivate over the way the trousers hug Ed’s curves, fitting snugly to his backside and closely following the length of his legs. They seem to go on forever….

Ed really has no idea how enticing he is, Oswald decides. The tailor sticks three fingers in Ed’s waistband to check the fit, then hands him a belt to try with it. He kneels, hiking up the unfinished hem of the trousers and pinning them so they are the right length over Ed’s heels. This gives Oswald the opportunity to admire the fit just a little while longer. It’s rare that Ed ditches the suit jacket lately and Oswald has not had an unobstructed view in far too long.

Oswald is determined not to tent his trousers. In a place like this, someone will surely notice. He admires Ed anyways. The tailor slips him into another jacket, checking that the lapels are smooth over his chest and all the other details his trained eye can asses in a glimpse. He looks at Oswald.

“Mr. Cobblepot?” Ed turns as well, expectant.

“It certainly fits you well,” Oswald says, reluctant to tell Ed what he truly thinks of it in front of their innocent tailor.

“I’ll fetch your order now, Mr. Cobblepot. Mr. Nygma, you can leave those in the fitting room. We’ll fashion you something in the style, material and color you requested. Please allow us two weeks for your order.” Ed nods, and the man disappears

“What do you really think, Ozzie?” Ed says, giving a little twirl in front of the mirror.

“I think that every time you take off your jacket I will be unable to focus on anything other than your arse.”

“Ozzie,” Ed gasps, swatting at him.

“I also think I’m going to highly enjoy taking it _off_ of you,” Oswald insinuates, moving closer into Ed’s personal space.

“Don’t start,” Ed warns, fleeing into the changing room. Oswald sighs. When they get home, then.

The tailor reemerges, handing Oswald a bundle of cloth. The Penguin’s new clothes. Oswald selects the other changing room, disrobing and redressing as quickly as he’s able, while still taking care with his new threads. Luckily there is a bench and handrail to assist him in the process.

Ed emerges from behind the curtain, looking around for Oswald, who has vanished. “Ozzie?” he calls.

“In here,” Oswald chirps. Ed walks over to the other fitting room, curious to see Oswald’s newest commission.

“Would you like some help?” he offers. Helping Oswald dress was always a treat.

“I’m nearly done,” Oswald says, finishing with the jacket and straightening his tie. He sweeps the curtain aside and heads for the mirrors, wanting to see the fit from every angle.

Ed’s jaw drops as he emerges, his eyes fixed on Oswald as he maneuvers past him. The ensemble is a deep purple, gold accents highlighting the lapel and pockets. The trousers are the same material, thin gold pinstripes making Oswald’s legs look even slimmer than they already are and… is it just Ed, or are his trousers more form fitting than usual?

“Are tight pants in style?” Ed asks seriously. “I almost couldn’t squeeze my backside into the last pair, but the waist still had about a quarter inch, as usual. I thought they were going to tear when I tied my shoes.” Oswald coughs, fussing with his cufflinks.

“Your pants seem slimmer as well…. It looks very nice on you, Oswald,” Ed says, swallowing hard. Very nice. He wishes Oswald could see what he sees.

The jacket adds breadth to Oswald’s shoulders, and Oswald stands with good posture in front of the mirror as he observes himself. He looks powerful, imposing, he looks-

“Did you know that purple is considered the color of royalty?” Ed blurts. Oswald looks at him, confusion and curiosity mixing on his face. Ed continues, for lack of anything better to say or do. “Purple dye was rare and difficult to come by, so of course it was ridiculously expensive. Only the rich and powerful could afford it, and therefore the color itself became a _symbol_ of wealth and power.”

Oswald observes himself in the mirror again, as if this information will somehow alter his perception. He has a new appreciation for the color now, certainly. _Royalty_ ; how curious. He hums. It’s good that he favours it, then.

“Purple suits you,” Ed prompts, stepping closer, hoping Oswald will catch his meaning without him having to say it aloud.

No great realization comes over Oswald’s face, but he does give a polite, “Thank you,” in response. He continues turning in front of the mirror, smoothing over the lapels of the jacket. Ed lets loose a sigh. Fine. Forthwith, then. He steps up behind Oswald, his hands lying lightly on his shoulders and brushing over them once before settling. Ed looks over Oswald’s shoulders, observing him in the mirror as Oswald watches him as in return. The cut of the jacket emphasizes his narrow hips, and Ed is riveted by the resulting shoulder-to-waist ratio. It’s very attractive. Every line in the suit seems to draw his eye to Oswald’s crotch, as if he needed any help diverting his attention there. The ties were bad enough. Oswald is still watching him with keen eyes, and Ed’s hands have not left his shoulders.

“You look powerful,” Ed says, making eye contact with him through the mirror. He holds Oswald’s gaze, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Regal. You look like _royalty_.” Oswald preens at the compliment, turning to kiss Ed chastely.

“You flatter me,” Oswald simpers, latching on to Ed’s tie to keep him close.

“I’m stating facts,” Ed counters, running his hands down Oswald’s chest. “You look like a king. The clothing merely suits your position.” Oswald tugs him in by his tie again, growling and claiming his lips in a more passionate kiss, licking into his mouth.

“Am I your King?” Oswald breathes against his lips when they part, Ed’s hands clutching at his lapels now to keep him close while Oswald grips his tie with similar purpose.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Ed asks lieu of actually answering. Oswald kisses him again (because it’s clear as day the answer is ‘yes’).

The pair break apart as the tailor reenters the room. “Are you satisfied with our work, Mr. Cobblepot?” he asks.

“Very,” Oswald answers, gazing at Ed still.

“I think it’s magnificent,” Ed adds, running his hands up over Oswald’s shoulders and down the sleeves of the jacket. He fiddles with Oswald’s cufflinks for a moment, rolling them between his fingers before breaking off and heading to collect Oswald’s things from the dressing room.

“So… You’ll take it, then?”

They take it, and Oswald leaves a very handsome tip. Any article of clothing that gets Ed in a _mood_ , deserves compensation. Oswald is most appreciative.

***

“Keep it on,” Ed whispers. Oswald has him pressed into their sheets already, and he hasn’t even made it on the bed himself. Ed’s ankles are locked behind Oswald’s back as he kisses Ed into the comforter, still standing at the side of their mattress while Ed sprawls across it.  


“What?” Oswald asks, a little disoriented. He feels light headed.

“The suit. I want you to keep it on,” Ed says.

“I’m not wearing this when I fuck you,” Oswald says.

“Of course not, but there are…” he pauses, a blush rising to his face, “There are other things you can _tell_ me to do, _Mr. Penguin_.”

Oh. Now Oswald understands; Ed wants it to be one of those nights. After their earlier conversation, he can guess why. Oswald just loves this suit more and more.

“ _Eddie_ ,” Oswald breathes, then composes himself. He smirks. “Would you like to serve your King?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ed hisses, “anything….” Oswald breaks Ed’s hold on him, stepping back.

“Strip,” Oswald commands in a clipped tone. Ed launches himself off of the bed, pulling off his clothing in record time. He picks up the discarded articles of clothing and heads for their closet. 

“Drop them.” Ed wants to protest, but complies. It’s all part of the game, really. “Come here.” Ed steps over the clothes to stand in front of Oswald, moving with surprising grace. Or perhaps it only appears that way because Oswald is entranced by the movement of muscles in Ed’s impossibly long legs. Oswald snatches a pillow off of the bed and throws it at Ed’s feet.

“On your knees,” He murmurs, ghosting his nose over Ed’s collarbone. Ed drop instantly, eagerly, gazing up at Oswald and waiting patiently for further instruction. Oswald squares his shoulders. He wants to give Ed a show, after all.

“Use your mouth,” is all he says. Ed reaches for his belt, and Oswald instantly snatches his wrists in his grip. “I said your _mouth_ ,” he snaps.

Ed grins, loving the pressure around his wrists, Oswald’s thumbs brushing over his pulse. He licks over the bulge in his pants, looking up at Oswald through his lashes. Oswald bites his own tongue in response. He lets go of Ed’s wrists, and Ed obediently draws them behind his back, leaning back in to work Oswald’s belt free. It doesn’t take him long, but the new, stiff button on his trousers presents some difficulty for him. After a minute of trying to tug it free, Ed whines in frustration and looks up at Oz, silently pleading for a reprieve.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Oswald says, denying him. Ed’s face darkens. He rips the button off with his teeth and spits it onto the floor. Oswald sputters.

“That’s cheating,” he says, a little angry that Ed has already damaged his trousers and knowing the implication will rile him.

“It’s not,” Ed quips, unzipping Oswald’s pants with his teeth and then nuzzling them open with his nose, “you said to use my _mouth_.” Ed licks over the front of his silken underwear for emphasis. Oswald curses, watching him. Ed breathes against him- and it’s unbelievably _hot_ \- then sucks kisses over the length of him through his briefs. Oswald is just about to snap at him to _get on with it_ when Ed sits up a bit and takes the waistband of his underwear in between his teeth, tugging it down to free his cock. It springs up and hits Ed’s glasses, knocking them askance. Ed laughs, peaking up at Oswald as he adjusts them.

Oswald smiles gently at him, chuckling as well. That had been rather cute. He runs a hand through Ed’s hair, urging him to take him in his mouth. Ed kisses the tip, licks it, and then envelops him until his nose is pressed into Oswald’s hair. Oswald sighs in relief, petting Ed’s hair as he sucks him off. Ed swallows around him where Oswald’s cock is nestled in his throat, pulls all of the usual tricks he does with that clever, wicked tongue, and when heat starts to pool in Oswald’s stomach, Oswald pulls him off. 

“Get on the bed,” he murmurs, his eyes dark, heated. Ed scrambles up onto the bed, laying on his back so his head is over the edge of the mattress and sticking his tongue out, waiting.

“Not this time,” Oswald says, heading to the nightstand. Ed looks confused, and a little disappointed. He had assumed Oswald would want to fuck his face. It was the usual dynamic they played when Ed requested ‘Mr. Penguin’ in the bedroom. Oswald was always a little rough when Ed sucked his cock during those times, but that element had been mysteriously absent tonight. Ed rolls so he’s on his stomach and elbows to observe Oswald. Oswald throws a bottle of lube on the bed next to him.

“Finger yourself,” he says, the same way one might say ‘pass the salt’. Oswald feels like his cock is going to fall off out of spite, but he’s always been a good bullshitter.

Ed lays back against the headboard, propping the pillows around himself to his satisfaction. He coats his fingers and reaches down, two fingers disappearing behind his balls to start. Ed hikes his knees up a little higher, sinking down and exposing himself more for Oswald’s viewing pleasure. Oswald takes a seat on the end of the bed, watching. Ed doesn’t linger, his movements perfunctory, at best. He slips in a third finger before long, working himself open further. Ed stops after a few minutes, looking up at Oswald expectantly.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Oswald asks, examining his nails.

“No, but-” Oswald snaps his head up, his gaze silencing him instantly.

“Finger yourself like I would.” Ed nods after a moment of hesitance, slipping three fingers back inside of himself and planting his feet on the bed. He rocks onto his own fingers, twisting them and spreading himself apart. He crooks them, stroking over his prostate, gasping, pressing harder still like Oswald would. Ed cups his sack, rolling it in his hand. He’s pumping his fingers, crooking them as they drag out, then he wraps a hand around his cock. 

“No,” Oswald says. He doesn’t want Ed to come yet, after all. Ed drops his cock immediately, squeezing his balls and then pressing fingers over his perineum. 

Ed closes his eyes, his head tipping back in pleasure. “Ozzie,” he gasps. “Ozzie… Ozzie…”

Oswald decides he wants a different angle to view the proceedings, as entertaining as it is to watch Ed finger himself. He gets into the bed, budging Ed up so he can slip in behind him. He settles Ed in between his knees, playing with his nipples as he feels Ed’s chest rise and fall against him. Oswald kisses the side of his face, feeling how heated Ed’s become. Ed turns to meet his lips, swiping his tongue over Oswald’s top lip and then moaning at his own ministrations. 

Oswald rubs his thumbs over Ed’s nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He puts a hand around Ed’s neck, squeezing until Ed is shaking and gasping for air in his lap before allowing him to breathe. He could do anything to Ed right now and Ed would let him. The idea is thrilling, as always. Oswald takes hold of Ed’s legs, cupping them behind the knees and drawing them to Ed’s chest. It changes the angle Ed’s fingering himself and makes him a bit tighter again. Ed pants in his arms, but it isn’t until his legs begin to tremble at the stimulation that Oswald finally relents. He has only one more order for him.

“Undress me,” Oswald commands. Ed removes his fingers from inside himself, sighing. He rolls off of the bed to stand on shaky legs, then helps Oswald up. Oswald had unbuttoned the one button on the jacket earlier, and Ed slips it off of him, moving to hang it. He doesn’t do it as deftly as usual, and his hands are definitely trembling. Ed gets the first few buttons done on his vest and fights with the last one but manages, slipping it off and hanging it as well. The tie comes off easily and Ed twists his cufflinks out without much fuss, hardly needing to look.

Oswald’s shirt buttons are far smaller, though, and Ed’s trembling is only getting worse. He gets the top button but struggles with the second. And struggles. Ed is beginning to look extremely frustrated as he works at it, the steadiness of his hands only declining as he grows more exasperated.

Oswald puts his hands over Ed’s, stilling them. “I’ll do the rest.” He sees Ed visibly sag with relief, nodding before crawling back onto the bed to wait for him. Oswald finishes with the shirt, tossing it. He has many like it, he’s not worried. He pushes his pants and underwear down his legs, folding the pants over a chair so he remembers to bring them back for a new button after only a day of wear. Oswald sits on the edge of the bed to pull his socks off; his shoes had been kicked off long ago.

He turns, finding Ed staring intently at him. “What?”

“You’re so handsome, Oswald,” Ed says, tilting his head like one might when examining a work of art. Oswald blushes, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes, yourself,” Oswald says, trying to deflect the conversation away from his looks. He’s never been secure about them, and apart from his mother Ed remains the only person who has ever insisted he is, in fact, attractive. 

Ed wraps his arms around him from behind, “Learn to take a compliment, Ozzie. You always brush them off.”

“Did I say you could talk?” Oswald mutters under his breath. Ed rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Oswald, you never want to talk about it. Who cares what I want, right?” Ed plays right into Oswald’s weakness with that one: his overwhelming desire to meet Ed’s needs. He curses.

“Why does it bother you that I’m insecure about my looks?” Oswald snaps. It’s not something he can help.

“Your insecurity doesn’t bother me. It’s that you think I’m lying to you when I say that I find you attractive. I do, Oswald, and I’m not lying.” Ed huffs, wrapping his arms tighter around Oswald and hooking his head over his shoulder. He’s never been a liar, and he resents the implication even though it’s not intentional. “You have no idea how badly I wanted you earlier, how distinguished you looked. I’ve wanted you all day simply because of the remarkable air of dignity you carried afterwards.” Oswald is quiet for a moment, contemplative.

“Thank you,” he says, letting all Ed’s words from today sink in instead of dismissing them. The feeling isn’t awful.

“I love you,” Ed says kissing the side of his face, “even if you don’t always listen to me, you stubborn old man.”

“Ed, I’m not that much older-”

“Ahem.”

“… I love you, too.”

“Nice save. We should have sex. Now.” Oswald smirks, turning in Ed’s arms and pushing him back against the bed.

“I should punish you for insubordination,” Oswald teases, crawling between Ed’s legs.

“Are you really that patient?” Ed asks, already knowing the answer. Oswald had entertained the idea many times and never gone through with it. They both wanted each other in other ways too badly to even attempt it. Self-denial was not in their nature.

“Quiet you,” Oswald says, booping Ed’s nose, “I’m tough as nails.”

“Not with me,” Ed breathes, closing the space between them to kiss him. Oswald pushes inside of him at last, and Ed breaks the kiss with a moan, his head tipping back. His hair is already loose and curling, and Oswald fists a hand in it, keeping Ed’s head drawn back so he can bite at his neck. Oswald rolls his hips into Ed, feeling Ed’s legs tighten around him, resting on his back and squeezing his hips. Ed digs his heels into Oswald’s backside, urging him on. It’s a bit early for that, Oswald thinks, but Ed’s probably worked up from earlier. Ed’s nails rake familiar marks into his back as they move together.

“Are you close?” Oswald asks, ceasing his ministrations on Ed’s neck. He lets go of Ed’s hair in favor of reaching down to tug at his cock.

“Yeah,” Ed sighs, biting his bottom lip. He’s been on edge all day because of Oswald, the magnificent bastard. Not to mention that Oswald’s earlier demands had led to him fingering himself for far longer than he ever had in his _life_.

“Don’t hold back,” Oswald tells him, picking up the pace as he strokes Ed. Ed comes apart not too long after that, tensing and gasping Oswald’s name. His toes curl, fingernails digging into his shoulders as he spasms around Oswald’s cock and into his hand. Oswald takes the rare opportunity to watch Ed come on his cock while uninhibited by the proximity of his own orgasm: the way his mouth makes a perfect ‘o’, the way the muscles in his neck shift and stretch as he tosses his head back. He’s beautiful, so beautiful. He bends down, whispering the sentiment into Ed’s ear.

Oswald’s thrusts slow as Ed’s orgasm ends, removing his hand from Ed’s cock. He gently pulls out of him, laying beside Ed and kissing him with similar care.

“Did you come?” Ed asks blearily, pushing Oswald’s hair out of his face with one hand.

“No.”

“Why not?” Ed asks, hurt and still dazed.

“I’m going to come on your face,” Oswald states. Ed is silent for a moment but quickly perks up, glad that his performance was not an issue but that this was Oswald’s plan the whole time. He can appreciate plans.

“Okay.”

“I wasn’t asking permission,” Oswald says, kissing Ed again harshly and biting at his lip. He stops abruptly, swinging his leg over Ed’s still heaving chest and sitting on it. Ed gazes up at him in bliss and wonder. 

Oswald takes his cock in hand, and in less than a minute he’s bringing himself off over Ed’s face, splattering his glasses with his release. He cries Ed’s name as he does, trying his best to aim even as his vision blurs and he shakes with the force of it. Ed opens his mouth to catch some of it, sticking his tongue out. He laps at the tip of Oswald’s cock and kisses it when Oswald’s finished, licking his lips. His face is absolutely covered in the evidence of Oswald’s orgasm. Ed certainly makes a very pretty picture, even though he’s probably blind right now. 

Oswald wants to rub himself into Ed’s ridiculous eyelashes, wants to seep into his skin. Instead he pulls Ed’s glasses off, running his tongue over his face, his lips, his nose. He cleans Ed’s glasses off on a sheet- probably smudging them but better than being soaked- and puts them back on Ed’s face.

He hums at the sight Ed makes, his curls wild and sweaty, his skin glistening with it. Oswald kisses his forehead, then dismounts and settles beside him.

“I’m not going to sleep covered in semen,” Ed says expectantly.

“I’ll run a bath in a minute, love,” Oswald assures him, kissing his cheek. He’d guessed as much. Ed hums.

“That was amazing, Oswald,” Ed says, recalling the thrill that ran through him with every command Oswald gave.

“You always say that,” Oswald says, kissing more of Ed’s face.

“It’s always amazing,” Ed insists, meeting his lips. They kiss languidly, enjoying the afterglow.

“You weren’t uncomfortable?” Oswald asks, needing to be sure.

“No! No, everything was good. Really. I’m sorry about your pants,” Ed says, casting a guilty look at them. He really liked those trousers. “I suppose I ended up desecrating them after all.”

“That’s on me, I think I went a little too far with the… disappointment thing,” Oswald admits. He knows it’s a sore subject for Ed, but he wasn’t sure how far it would go towards Ed’s enjoyment and if the bedroom element might outweigh his past experiences. Ed goes silent.

“I- I could have done without that,” he says quietly, after a moment.

“Then it will never happen again,” Oswald swears fervently, taking Ed’s hand in his grasp and kissing his knuckles. Ed smiles.

“I love you, Eddie,” Oswald says, kissing his knuckles again.

“I love you, too,” Ed breathes, his dark eyes twinkling. “Now, how about that bath?”

**Author's Note:**

> Whattaya think? Also: didja miss me? How 'bout that hiatus though? Question mark?


End file.
